summiting mount marcy was one of the most incredible experiences of my life 😍
a 15 mile round trip, with over 3,500 feet of elevation gain, to the top of the highest peak in new york state, all by myself, would have given any normal person a lot of pause, but when have i ever been a normal person? 🤣
what i find magical about mountains is how its almost all psychological. the entire 12 hour round trip journey was a cacophonous medley of voices in my head, as i wavered between hope and fear, willing myself to push on despite the pain, the fatigue, the doubts, visualizing myself at the summit, then back in my car, then back home with my friends and family, even in my old age telling the story of when i summited marcy.
the first 3 miles or so were deceptively easy, a leisurely walk up and down gentle hills, over quaint bridges, through magical seeming forests. but then the dirt paths gave way to narrow fields of giant boulders that you had to hop between, fields that quickly became steeper and steeper. it felt like a fun puzzle at first but the intensity quickly became overwhelming. my legs started screaming as i obsessively kept checking the clock praying that i could make it up and down before dark.
i repeated prayers and mantras to myself like a madman at times, while simply counting steps at others. ya lateef, ya waliyi, ya naseeri. oh God of subtle kindness, of my friend and protector, make this path easy for me. everything i want in my life is on the other side of this summit. what are 12 hours of pain compared to a lifetime of glory? 😂
the most important thing was to keep putting one foot in front of the other. to keep the rhythm going. to not lose the momentum. to know that my arms and legs would always know what to do in the moment and that they would never fail me.
near the top, i actually began to get scared. i was afraid of running out of time. running out of water. running out of the strength to go on. and as i met people who were descending, i started talking to the ones who seemed nice. “i’m so scared, will i make it? does it get easier?” even i was afraid to hear myself saying this out loud. “you’ve come so far,” they said. “you have to push onwards. it doesn’t get easier. but you’ll get stronger.“
the last hour up was the most intense. you come to a beautiful wide field, with grass so green you want to lie down in it and sleep, and to the right, for the first time, towering above you is the face of mount marcy. you have no how you’ll ever get to the top. and then the signs become more and more ominous. “warning, extreme danger, proceed only with proper equipment.”
and then the trail narrows and zig zags, with trees all around you before you stand face to face with the mountain, and the trail by now looks almost entirely vertical, the yellow blazes painted on the granite, and you’re not sure if they are mocking you, tempting you, or welcoming you.
“look where you want to go” is terrifying now so you look down and force yourself to take one step at a time, praying in the grip of your boots, and you climb up the stone face which has been smoothed with the footsteps of thousands of climbers over the years. and you climb up three or four of these walls, and there are cairns at each level, and with each level, your confidence rises, your euphoria increases, and then when you reach the top, massive, and wide, and spacious, and you look up and around and see that there is nowhere higher to go, you literally burst out laughing.
is this it?! you exclaim. God is truly great. you are dancing on the summit now. it is drizzling and the sky is overcast with clouds but they no longer scare you. climbing the mountain was just a mechanism for you to overcome your fears, to find hidden abilities you never knew you had. of course, you had to climb a mountain to discover that you were a mountain climber 🌝
the euphoria is short lasting though. the way down is grueling, brutal, the time passes so slowly. the pain is so intense. fears again overcome you. “if my legs stop working, i might die on this mountain.” you know this thought pattern could be fatal so you have to neutralize it at all costs. more than anything else, mountains teach you how to control your inner voice.
still, at times, you feel like you are stuck in a never ending obstacle course from hell. all you can do is to put one foot in front of the other. that’s all you can ever do in life.
and then, the trail ends and you’re back in the parking lot. it’s over so soon. you text your family and friends, ecstatic. you drive back to the hotel, eager to get into the hot tub. you cannot really walk. that night, you sleep delicately, minor changes in position causing your legs to remember the ordeal they went through earlier.
over the next few days, the pain will fade away, and you’ll return to normal life. you’ll remember that rush of feeling like you were on top of the world. you’ll find the next mountain until you can’t stop thinking about it.
and then you’ll do it all over again 🙂